


A Winter's Tale

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Marauders' Era, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-14
Updated: 2010-04-14
Packaged: 2019-01-19 11:27:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12409452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: [Drabble] A moment in Hogsmeade





	A Winter's Tale

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

“Don’t you need a coat?” she asked flatly as they stood in front of a shop window.

“Nope,” he said, pleasantly studying the quill on display.

“All you have on is a sweater,” she said, her voice as stale as the bread you find in the back of the cupboard (It’s been so long that you can’t remember when you bought it.  You throw it out).

“Worried about me, Evans?” he asked, smiling at her cheekily.

“Right.  Well, I’m going to keep walking and wish you a pleasant day in Hogsmeade.  Have a pleasant day in Hogsmeade.”  When he didn’t answer, she widened her eyes at him and quirked her mouth – “Of course,” she seemed to say – and high stepped through the snow.

“Fancy a Butterbeer?” he called after her.  His eyes were bright through his glasses and his hair was ruffled from the wind.  “I _am_ awfully cold.  I lied.”

“You are a rotten date.  You know that, don’t you?”

“Your nose is very pink.”

She glared at him.  “And you are unnecessarily disgusting.  And patronizing.  Disgustingly patronizing.”

“Of course, love.”

“And I suppose you want me to lend you my coat?”

“It would only be the chivalrous thing to do,” he said, smiling at her sweetly.

“You are incorrigible,” she said, slipping out of her coat and placing it on his shoulders.  He slipped his arms into it, the sleeves several ridiculous inches too short.

“People tell me it’s my best trait.”  He clutched the coat around him, batting his eyelashes.  “You really shouldn’t’ve, darling.”

“We’re never doing this again,” she said, joining her mittened hand with his and leading him towards the pub.  She stopped just outside the door and looked up at him through her fringe.  “You know that, don’t you?”

He drew closer, brushing her bangs out of her eyes.  “Of course,” he said solemnly before brushing his lips against hers.

“I suppose you’ll want me to pay?” she asked after he drew away, her cheeks a little pinker, though the wind had stopped blowing.  

“You’re ever the gentleman,” he murmured, opening the door for her.  

“And don’t you forget it.” 


End file.
